


Harry Potter and the House of Gryffindor

by Kesina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kesina/pseuds/Kesina
Summary: What if Dumbledore actually knew what was going on? What if the Dark Lord wasn't solely fueled by rage and ego? What if Sirius Black were proven innocent?What if Harry Potter was forced to deal with his trauma?





	1. Perfectly Normal of Course

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, one small conceit spiralled off into a whole AU. Enjoy!

Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey is a perfectly normal house on a perfectly normal street in a perfectly normal town in which Vernon and Petunia Dursley as well as their infant son Dudley live, and who were also perfectly normal, thank you very much.

Along the street, the lights slowly went out one by one as a mysterious robed figure approached their door. Strange enough already, but the grey cat which had been following the robed one slowly grew and turned into a severe looking woman who would not seem out of place in a school were it not for her strange garb as well.

“Albus,” she whispered harshly to the man next to her, “Are you sure about this? I’ve been watching these muggles all day and they’re just the worst sort.”

“Minerva… You know the situation. He has to stay with family for now.”

“But why not let Sirius Black take him in? He’s the boy’s godfather!”

The older man sighed, his long beard swaying softly as he shook his head, “Sirius is a bit indisposed at the moment. This is the safest place for young Harry.”

“But these are muggles, Albus, how are they going to help if Pettigrew comes to call or one of the escaped Death Eaters shows up?”

“They won’t, Minerva. Lily did something tonight that hasn’t been done in centuries. He will be all but invisible to those who wish to do him harm while he lives with family.”

“So why not Sirius?” she asked with a huff.

“The boy is going to be famous, despite his young age. Everyone in the wizarding world will know the name of Harry Potter by tomorrow afternoon. It’s best if he grows up away from all of that.”

Minerva threw up her hands and then groused the rest of the walk. Once they were at the door, Albus waved a thin stick in the air.

Several moments passed before a motorcycle came barreling out of the sky to land in front of Number 4 Privet Drive. Astride was a man far larger than the bike had any right to carry. He carefully dismounted and tromped up the two robed people and began in a hoarse whisper, “I ‘ave him, Professor Dumbledore. ‘e slept the entire way.”

The man smiled behind his beard up at the giant and took the small bundle that the larger man held in his arms, “Thank you, Hagrid. Be sure to return Sirius’ vehicle.”

“O’course sir. Professor McGonagall,” he said, bowing slightly to the robed woman before leaving.

“Are you sure about this, Albus? I mean absolutely sure?”

“This is the best way to handle things I have right now. He will be alright.”

Albus Dumbledore placed the small bundled babe on the doorstep of Number 4, in a quickly conjured basket and placed a prepared note next to him. He stood back, smiled softly, and vanished with a loud crack along with his companion, as the lights in the neighborhood snapped back on.

Petunia Dursley awoke to the sound of the crack and pondered what could be going on before falling back to sleep listening to her husband’s loud snoring.


	2. Freedom

Harry Potter woke up to the sound of a loud motorbike coming to a stop in front of the house. He blinked his eyes blearily and put on his glasses, not that the cupboard under the stairs had much to see. He was “grounded” once again for being a “freak” despite his insistence that he had nothing to do with the snake that was released from the zoo while he and Dudley had been in the reptile house.

It wasn’t his fault that the glass that Dudley had shoved Harry out of the way to press his horrid little nose against had vanished, causing him to splash into the water inside while the snake left. He hadn’t mentioned to his Aunt and Uncle that the snake had thanked him. Still, it had allowed him a chance to nap after having been up well into the dawn being harangued by his guardians for his freakish behavior. It meant freedom from chores for at least a few hours until Aunt Petunia decided the garden needed weeding or some such. He sat up and shifted, wincing a little at the new bruise on his arm when it collided with a wall. Uncle Vernon often got physical with Harry when his freakish nature acted up. Or if Harry forgot how much bacon to serve him. Or if he had a bad day at work. Or if Dudley had a bad day at school.

It was July 31st, his birthday. Today he turned eleven years old. He marked that fact in his mind but beyond that, knew it would be just another day of abuse and chores if they deigned to let him out of his cupboard. He was just pondering going back to sleep when there came a knock on the door. He could hear a chair creak as his uncle stood up, “I’ll get it Petunia. Probably just another solicitor.”

As soon as Vernon Dursley opened the door, he was a bit baffled. The man in front of him was wearing a well-fitting dark suit with a dark red tie. His hair was long and shiny, and he sported a well-kept goatee, “What do you want?” Vernon asked hostilely.

The man gave a small smile, “My name is Sirius Black, I’m here to collect my godson, Harry Potter. Would you be so kind as to fetch him for me?”

Vernon scoffed, an action that sent his fat jiggling. Sirius took the man in and decided he didn’t like him. Mr. Dursley was built like a walrus that had swallowed a weather balloon, only with a worse mustache, “Are you serious?” he asked, and doomed himself.

The smile on Sirius’ face got a bit wider, “I do believe I just said that was my name.”

“Whatever, I don’t know why you’re here, but you’re not getting that little freak, he has no-“

Vernon Dursley found himself in an interesting predicament. As soon as he had said the word “freak,” the man’s demeanor had changed from gentle to hard in an instant. Now the man was shoving a stick in his face and he couldn’t figure out why it became so hard to think about anything other than his freakish nephew for some time. Eventually the man moved the stick and he felt himself fly backwards into the living room and crash into his chair. That would cost a lot to repair.

Petunia rushed into the room and screamed at the site of her husband in a pile on the floor with the wreckage of his favorite chair. She reached for the phone only to be stopped dead in place by some unknown force.

“I had wanted to solve this peacefully. I had hoped you would know who I was and would give me my godson. Then I had a look into your mind, Vernon. The things you have done to that boy…”

“I was trying to make him normal.”

“You were trying to make him ‘normal,’” Sirius growled and stalked into the room. Vernon levitated into the air again and was pressed against the wall. He continued in a harsh whisper that only the fat man could hear, “You beat him, broke him, confined him, and treated him like a slave. It is only because I made a promise to James and Lily that you aren’t already dead on the floor. I am going to retrieve my godson with your blessing, and we are never going to meet again. If you breathe a word of this encounter to anyone, I will return and we will have a much longer talk.”

“Petunia… get Harry, would you?” Vernon said, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

For her part, the woman was almost able to hide the fact that she was shaking hard enough to erase her Dudley’s Etch-a-Sketch as she unlocked the cupboard.

Harry had heard the initial talk and the crash of his uncle, but as he watched the door open his Uncle was standing next to what used to have been his favorite chair next to a tall, thin man who seemed vaguely familiar, “W-what can I do f-for you?” he asked.

The new man smiled, his features softening and his posture loosening, “Hello, Harry. My name is Sirius Black. I’m your godfather. I’ve come to take you away from these m-people.”

“Y-you’re serious?”

“I did just say that,” he said with a laugh while his Aunt and Uncle continued to look terrified, “Gather up your things and we’ll get going, okay?”

“I-I don’t have m-much. J-just these hand-me-d-downs.”

“I see…” Sirius said with a glare toward the two adults in the room. Dudley had wisely decided to remain upstairs in his room with his Nintendo and away from the conflict downstairs, “Well, let’s go then. I have a lot to tell you!”

“A-are you really my g-godfather?”

The man pulled out a sheet of parchment and handed it to Harry. It looked very official, and his vocabulary was just enough to understand it was a legal document proving the fact.

He nodded and looked up at his new guardian, “L-let’s go then. B-bye Aunt Petunia, Uncle V-vernon. Tell Dudley the s-same.”

Sirius smiled and walked out to his motorbike with Harry, sitting astride it and placing Harry in front of him. A helmet appeared on Harry’s head and he looked around, “I-I’ve never been on one of th-these.”

“You have, you just don’t remember. Now hold on!” Sirius said as he kick-started the bike and tore off down the road.

Harry began to laugh at the speed and the sensation of the wind on his face, and then something strange happened. The sound of the engine became extremely quiet and he felt himself rise into the air. He looked down and watched at the ground retreated beneath him and he felt a sense of adrenaline and freedom he’d never experienced before, “We’re flying?!” he shouted over the wind.

“What kind of wizard would I be if I didn’t own a flying machine?” His companion asked back.

Wizard, what could he mean by that? Harry was briefly lost in thought before the sensation of flying snapped him out of his reverie and he cried with laughter at the feeling of freedom he had in that moment. Freedom from the bonds of the Earth, and freedom from his Aunt and Uncle.

The flight was long and eventually they landed in front of a large house. It was far larger than any house he had seen save the Queen’s castle and he had only seen that once. He blinked owlishly at it while he was set on the ground by Sirius, “Welcome home,” the adult said as he got off himself.

“Th-this is your house?” he asked breathlessly.

“No, Harry. This is Potter Manor. This is _your_ house.”

Harry nodded slowly, looked up at his godfather, said, “Okay,” and promptly passed out.


	3. History of the World Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glossing over a lot of things since everyone's read the books and I just really want to get closer to school. Hope that's alright.

After restoring his godson to consciousness, Sirius went about the task of catching him up on the events surrounding the situation. He did it as gently as possible, trying not to further overwhelm the lad, while Harry stared into space and processed the information as best he could. The poor boy was incredibly lost.

“S-so, my parents d-died protecting m-me from an e-evil man, because P-p-peter p-p-pettigrew b-b-b… betrayed them… a-and I was left with… with the D-dursley’s because i-it was safer?”

“So Dumbledore thought at the time, yes, Harry. Had we known what they were doing to you, I would have had you out of there much sooner. I’m so sorry.”

“I-I’m just glad I’m out n-now… Y-you said you were a w-w-wizard?”

“Yes, Harry. You are too, you just didn’t get to know it.”

“My…f-f-f-f-freakish n-n-nature.”

Sirius nodded sadly and got up to pace the expansive living room in which they sat. His thoughts were wandering to dark places and he tried to hold in the growl he felt building in his throat. His ability as an Animagus had instilled some of the instincts of his form into his human self, and the strongest was the instinct to protect family. He had wanted to tear Vernon’s throat out.

Harry whimpered a little, and Sirius realized his expression had soured as he looked at the boy, “Oh, Harry, I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you!” he said as he hastily moved over, dropping to his knees to comfort his godson, “It’s tough, I know, but not every adult is like them. I’ll get you all the help I can, okay?”

The boy nodded, wiping his eyes. He hated being this way but his entire memory was filled an angry face being followed by a slap or worse, “I-I’ll g-get better?”

The older man nodded, smiling, “Yes, we’ll get you better. You’ll be going to a big school with lots of kids your age in September, and you’ll be able to make a lot of friends there.”

“I get to g-go to s-school?!” Harry asked excitedly.

“You’ve never been?”

Harry shook his head a little, “W-well, I went to o-one year… b-but my f-f-f-f-freakishness made the t-t-teacher’s cup crash i-into a wall.”

“So they pulled you out after that?” Sirius asked, and Harry nodded, “Well, I’ll do what I can to… get you up to speed for the new school, okay? I know a few people that might help too. For now, how about some lunch?”

“O-okay, w-where’s the kitchen? I-I’ll get started…”

“No, silly boy, you don’t cook anymore unless you want to,” Sirius said and looked to the empty room, “It’s time you met the Potter house-elf. Teeky, come meet young Harry!”

Harry blinked, suddenly worried that his godfather was a total loony like him. But when he reopened his eyes, there they were. A strange little creature clad in rags with a huge smile on its face. He shuffled a bit farther back in the chair as it came up to him, confused and a bit scared.

“Young Master Harry! Teeky so happy to see you a…gain? Master Harry why you scared? Teeky friendly, best house-elf ever!”

Sirius prevented the elf from climbing the chair to get at Harry, “Easy, Teeky. He doesn’t remember you. He was just a baby. He’s nervous. Go get us some lunch, okay?”

“Okay Master Padfoot, Teeky get lunch.”

“There’s a good girl,” he said, causing Teeky’s face to burst into a smile as she practically danced out of the room.

“Th-that’s a house-elf?”

“Yep. Interesting creatures. Desperately loyal and eager to serve. Some nicer than others. Teeky’s been with the Potter’s since before James was born. You’ll get used to her,” he said, gently patting Harry’s knee, “Now, do you want to know about magic?”

Harry nodded shyly, and Sirius launched into an explanation of the magical world, the separation from muggles, and all the fanciful creatures and things that happened. After the explanation and lunch, the young boy yawned, and Sirius took the opportunity to show him to the room he had set up. The bed was softer than anything Harry had ever felt and he dozed off, dreaming of floating on a cloud.

Sirius smiled and closed the door slightly and squatted down to Teeky, “Teeky, listen… Harry was… hurt by the people he was staying with. He’s going to have some problems that we have to help him through, okay?” Teeky nodded in understanding, “Good, just don’t surprise him or shout at him, or touch him when he’s not paying attention for now, okay?”

“Teeky won’t. Teeky wants to help Young Master get better!”

Sirius nodded, “Good girl, let’s let him rest for a while. He’s had a very big day.”


	4. Shopping montage

The month of August was a whirlwind of activity for the newly liberated Harry Potter and his godfather. Between getting Harry’s reading up to a level where he wouldn’t struggle during the first weeks of classes, meeting with a speech therapist to begin fixing his stutter using a combination of magic and muggle therapy, and learning about the new world he was about to become part of, the pair had hardly a moment’s peace when the sun was up.

Harry met Remus Lupin, another old friend of his father’s, who despite being guarded and quiet had quite the knack as an educator. It was with his help and a bit of specialized magic that let the young boy accelerate his reading to where it should have been as an eleven-year-old in wizarding Britain. He learned a bit of history from the older man as well, though he dodged the question of his nickname being “Mooney” the entire time. Sirius had revealed that “Padfoot” was his nickname because he had the rare ability to turn into an animal. He was an Animagus, and his form was that of a big shaggy dog which delighted Harry to no end.

It was getting close to the end of August when Sirius sat him down for another talk, “So, Pronglet, how are you feeling?”

“Pretty good... M-my stutter isn’t so bad and I-I don’t jump as much when Teeky appears.”

Sirius smiled, “That’s good… I know you probably don’t think you’re ready, but we need to go school supply shopping and if we go this week the crowds won’t be as bad as they will next week.”

“D-do I really have to go? C-can’t you go get my stuff?”

“I could get most of it, but there are a few things you need to be present for. Your wand foremost among them. Besides, you need to get used to being in public spaces before school starts.”

Harry sighed and nodded, “I-I’ll try not to panic too m-much.”

His godfather smiled and ruffled the unruly brown hair that had grown out a bit, “Maybe we’ll get you a haircut too. You’re starting to look like me when I’m a dog.”

The boy grumped but smiled anyway as he accepted the teasing, knowing his godfather meant it from a good place unlike his cousin or any of the other neighborhood kids.

“So, we have a choice. You’ve seen me Apparate, and you’ve seen Remus use the Floo network. Both ways will get us to Diagon Alley. If you want my opinion, the Floo is a better experience but both can be startling.”

“I-if you say so. Y-you also didn’t make Ap-Ap-Apparating sound like a good experience.”

The older man nodded and helped the boy to his feet. As they walked to the large fireplace in the main room of the Potter manor, he explained how it worked, “You take a good handful of Floo Powder out of the bag next to the fireplace, say your destination out loud and very clearly, and then in a flash you’re at your destination. Do you want me to go first?”

“If you go first I-I might chicken out.”

Sirius smiled again, “Alright, then. Remember, very clearly,” he said, holding out the powder bag as his godson stepped into the ashes.

Harry nodded and took a handful of the powder and several deep breaths. He closed his eyes and threw the powder down as he nearly shouted, “Diagon Alley!”

The experience wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it was quite shocking to someone who had never traveled between locations in space so abruptly. He stumbled out of the fireplace and collapsed to the ground to catch his breath. Another flash of green flame lit the area as his godfather stepped through and knelt down to help, “Deep breaths. In, count to three, out, count to three…”

Harry nodded and eventually stood. It was only then that he took in the sights of the hub of wizarding in Britain. People in robes and odd hats wandered about going in and out of stores, still others were wearing horrible mis-matched outfits of clothes that meant they were trying to look like muggles and failing miserably. He blinked owlishly as his godfather finished dusting him off.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I still p-prefer the train.”

“Well, good thing Hogwart’s has its own then,” Sirius said and held out his hand.

Harry took it and the two began to walk into the shopping district of Diagon Alley. Along the way, Sirius pointed out a few famous witches and wizards before stopping before a store with a large wand on the sign, “Olivander’s… This is where every witch and wizard in Britain gets their wand,” he said with a fond smile, remembering when he got his.

“Go on in, Harry. He’s a nice old man, you’ll be fine. I’ll be back once I’ve picked up the rest of your stuff, then we’ll head to Gringott’s and get your account squared away before we go get you some robes.”

“O-okay. You’re sure I’ll be fine?”

“Absolutely. It’s a rite of passage to get your wand, and I wouldn’t want to interfere.”

Harry nodded and took a deep breath before releasing his godfather’s hand stepping for the door, a mantra repeating in his brain that he had to be brave, and Olivander wouldn’t hurt him. He almost believed it as he crossed the threshold, looking back at Sirius who nodded encouragingly. The door swung closed behind him and the coolness of the room became apparent now that he was out of the hot August sun.

It was dark, musty, and lined floor to ceiling and wall to wall with small boxes. Some stacked perfectly neatly, others as if they’d been piled there absentmindedly by customers and had not yet been attended to by staff. Shelves upon shelves of the nearly identical boxes extended far back into the building, fading into the darkness. Out of the darkness, stalked a slightly hunched man with wild gray hair who studied Harry carefully for a moment before smiling and moving in closer, “Harry… Potter… I am so, so excited to see you.”

“A-are you Mr. Olivander?”

“Yes, yes, I am! You’ve heard of me then, but you must be here for your wand, then, Mr. Potter! The most important thing a wizard can have. His closest friend some might say,” the old man smiled and gathered a box off a shelf, opening it and handing Harry the wand inside, “Eleven inches, Unicorn hair core, Walnut, give it a wave.”

Harry did so, and a light flickered slightly in the direction he had made the motion, but nothing else happened. He thought he felt something, but it was distant and indistinct.

“Hmmm, no, I think not,” Olivander said, taking the wand back and searching the walls before retrieving another, “Try this one. Six inches, Beech, Dragon Heartstring, slightly springy.”

The young man shrugged and waved it at a flowerpot, only for the pot to shatter and fall to the ground, causing him to jump and drop the wand. This process continued for dozens of wands, long enough that Harry had spotted Sirius lurking outside the shop for at least an hour. The wand he was currently holding jumped straight out of his hand as he gave it a wave.

“Meant for someone else I suppose. The wand chooses the wizard after all,” the wand-maker said, bending to pick it up and then standing suddenly as if struck, “I wonder if… but…” he muttered as he went down into the stacks, retrieving a box covered in dust and cobwebs, “Perhaps… to right a wrong made so many years ago…”

He approached Harry and opened the box, handing the wand to the young boy. Once he had hold of it, a glow seemed to suffuse the area and a rush of power went through him, “Wh-what was that?”

“As I said, the wand chooses the wizard… Eleven inches long, holly, with a phoenix feather core. Only one other feather was given by that phoenix. The owner of that wand’s brother was a very powerful wizard who did great and terrible things… You have a destiny about you, Mr. Potter. Seven Galleons please.”

Harry blinked up at the old man, confused by the sudden change in demeanor. He looked at Sirius and shrugged, “M-my godfather has the money, Mr. Olivander,” he said, waving for the man to come in at last.

“Sirius Black! My boy I haven’t seen you since you got your own wand all those years ago. Mr. Potter has found his wand and owes seven Galleons for it.”

Sirius nodded and counted out the heavy gold coins for the old man, “That took long enough…” he muttered.

“The meeting of wand and wizard is something that takes its own time, young Mr. Black. Yours took several hours too as I recall. None of the usual Black Family types seemed to like you.”

“I remember. Thank you, Olivander, come along, Harry,” Sirius said, and took his godson by the hand before exiting the store. Once they were clear, he sighed, “Sorry, Harry, but if you let him, Old Oli will lecture you on wandlore for hours.”

“I-it’s fine. Did you get e-everything?”

“Yes, and I even got you a present. You’ll see when we get home. Now, we need to sort out your trust. Your parents made sure you would be taken care of. I used part of it to get your school supplies, but now that you’re back in the wizarding world, we’ll need to get your personal access sorted. I’ll warn you, Harry, Gringott’s is owned and operated by Goblins. Nasty little creatures, with horrible personalities, but they know what they’re doing. Don’t stare too hard okay?”

Harry nodded as they approached the bank, wizards coming and going and more than a few stopping to squint at his features. He looked away shyly when he noticed and then tried to avoid gaping at the goblins when they entered the building. They were short, ugly, with pointed ears and gnarled hands. He tried to swallow the fear as he and Sirius approached the main counter. It was positioned high above even Sirius, much like the other slightly shorter desks nearby. Compensating for something, his uncle would have said.

Sirius cleared his throat and the goblin peered down at them with a sneer, “What?”

“Harry James Potter, here to inspect his vault and retrieve his key.”

“And do you have a key to said vault for verification?”

His godfather held out a large, golden key, “Of course.”

“Very well, one of our account managers will be along in a moment to assist you. Please wait over there,” the creature said, pointing off to its left.

Sirius nodded and they moved off, nearly running into a leather-clad mountain coming the opposite direction, “Oops!” it said in a deep, soft voice, “Sorry about that. Wasn’t watching where I was goin’ I s’pose.”

“It’s alright, we’re fine,” Sirius began before looking up, “Hagrid? Is that you?”

“Sirius? Blimey! I ain’t seen you since… well… and is this…”

“Yes, this is Harry. Harry Potter, meet Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts.”

“A p-pleasure,” the young boy said, holding out a hand which was totally engulfed in the huge man’s own.

“Not every day your young man turns eleven, is it? Excited for school?”

Harry nodded and smiled. He liked this Hagrid already. He may have made his uncle look like a goblin in size, but he could nearly feel the gentle aura the giant emitted.

“And what are you doing at Gringott’s, Hagrid?”

“Ah… I uh…” the man looked around and leaned in, speaking even softer, “Had to pick up… something for Dumbledore…” he said and not subtly patted his pocket, “Secret mission.”

Sirius smirked, “That old man and his secrets. Well don’t let us keep you, we have to get Harry’s account settled.”

Hagrid nodded, “Right,” he said, straightening up, “I’ll see you come the first, ‘arry. You’ll love ‘ogwart’s.”

With that, Rubeus Hagrid took his leave, a goblin appearing where he had stood. The next several hours were spent dealing with the never-ending labyrinth of paperwork and meetings and verifications both magical and mundane before Harry got his own key.

“Well, with that settled,” Sirius sighed as they exited the bank, the sun starting to set over Diagon Alley, “What say you to some dinner, your treat?” he asked with a wink.

Harry grinned, nodding, patting his pouch that was heavy with coins.

A bit later, the two reappeared in the fireplace in Potter manor to be greeted by a pile of goods, “Ah, right… I didn’t actually tell Teeky to put these away…” he said.

Harry’s eyes were drawn to one particular package, a cage, sitting atop the pile, holding a snow-white owl, “Sirius, what’s that?”

“Ah, that would be the present I mentioned. Harry, I’d like you to meet your new owl, Hedwig! Isn’t she pretty?”

The bird perked up at her name and made a soft noise, staring at Harry with wide, studying eyes.

“Hedwig… I like it…” the boy said with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is much longer, hope it reads well. I think I handled it okay.
> 
> Also, I've found out that I'll be losing my food benefits after his month, so if you enjoy this and want to help, head over to https://ko-fi.com/terashell Thank you


	5. Welcome To Hogwart's

The train platform was packed with all manner of people as Harry and Sirius attempted to navigate the crowds. The boy clung tightly to his godfather’s hand and attempted to keep calm despite the crowds and near constant jostling, Hedwig squeaking with displeasure every time their cart shifted. Eventually they ducked between two supports to catch their breath, and Harry marveled out how most of the people seemed to wander around the space. They would use the arches farther down but not this one.

“Anti-muggle charms,” Sirius whispered, “Platform nine and three-quarters is right through that wall.”

“The wall?!”

“Yes, now come on, we don’t want the train to leave without you, after all!” Sirius said, holding Harry’s hand tight and leading him toward the pillar. When Harry expected the trolley to collide with it, it began to pass through, followed by his godfather and then himself. On the other side was a similar train station with one large old-fashioned train and seemingly hundreds of wizards and witches of all ages milling about, shouting for their luggage, hugging their families, and catching up after summer.

Harry tried to absorb everything while his godfather maneuvered the cart towards one of the loading areas and then away from most of the crowd where he crouched down to Harry’s eye level, “Doing okay, Pronglet?”

Harry took some deep breaths and sighed, “I’ll be better once I-I’m in a quiet cabin.”

Sirius nodded and pulled the boy into a hug, “Just remember your breathing techniques and you’ll be fine. The first week might be rough but you can always call on Professor McGonagall or even Madam Pomfrey if you need some quiet. Before you know it, you’ll have friends if you’re anything at all like your parents. I’m always a letter away, too.”

Harry nodded and tried to steady his breathing while he hugged his godfather close. Eventually they parted and Sirius waved as his godson boarded the train. The older man hoped beyond hope that the boy would find some friends that would make his journey through the first year of school easier. Sirius had his own work to do while Harry was in school. After all, Peter wouldn’t find himself. News of Harry’s return would surely filter back to the rat eventually and that may provide motivation for him to come out of hiding.

Sirius waved again as Harry sat in a cabin, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile until the train left. Once the train was out of site, he apparated away.

Harry sighed. The journey to the cabin he sat in was slightly harrowing. Kids of all ages filling the cramped halls and shouting to each other. He was glad that the door seemed to have some kind of silencing charm on it to drown out the noise. He closed his eyes and went through one of the calming techniques his therapist had taught him. He had just barely finished when the door slid open and a young boy with wild red hair peered in.

“Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full,” he asked, looking around.

“I-I guess. If you really n-need to,” Harry said cautiously.

The other boy sighed and entered, closing the door and collapsing on the bench opposite, “Thanks, mate. My name’s Ron, by the way, Ron Weasley.”

“H-harry Potter,” Harry replied politely and offered his hand to shake.

The other boy gaped and leaned forward, causing Harry to shrink back into his seat, “You’re Harry Potter? _That_ Harry Potter?”

“W-which Harry Potter would that be?”

“The one that defeated You-Know-Who.”

“I-I haven’t defeated a-anyone. I’m j-just Harry.”

Ron looked him over suspiciously, eyes eventually locked onto his scar, “You have the scar. You ARE him!”

“P-please don’t make a b-big deal out of it… I was just a b-baby…” Harry said, getting increasingly uncomfortable with the thread of the conversation.

Ron, experiencing a rare moment of clarity, leaned back into his seat, “Alright, alright, sorry. I just thought you’d be… taller.”

“I’m eleven.”

Ron rolled his eyes and let it drop, instead turning the conversation to school. The young ginger was incredibly excited and told stories of his many older brother’s adventures. Harry didn’t do much talking himself. Just listening to the boy blabber on about everything and nothing. The trolley eventually came by and seeing that Ron only had a rather misshapen sandwich to eat on the ride, Harry bought a treat for both, getting his first real experience with magical candy. The chocolate frog nearly gave him a heart attack when it leapt across and landed squarely on Ron’s face, making both boys laugh at the absurdity.

The comradery helped Harry loosen up and he was even smiling when another person came storming into the room. A girl with frizzy brown hair, already in her school robes, looked around and in an extremely exasperated tone asked, “Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville’s lost one.”

“Just chocolate ones,” Ron replied cheekily.

She rolled her eyes, “Those are frogs, not toads. You two better get into your robes, we’re nearly at Hogwart’s,” she said with little ceremony and vanished off into the train.

Harry and Ron shrugged, and Ron left the cabin to give Harry a bit of privacy to change, the two exchanging places so they were both dressed by the time the train pulled in.

When they exited, Harry smiled a bit when he saw a familiar mountain of a man with a lamp, who also happened to be calling out to the first years. He walked up to him with Ron and waved, “Hello again, Hagrid.”

“Well hi there, Harry, who’s your friend?”

“This is Ron, Ron, meet Hagrid.”

“My brothers said you were big…” the ginger said unsubtly as he stared up.

Hagrid just chuckled, “Big body for a big heart, me dad used to say. C’mon, get on the boats you two. There’s two spaces open with that girl down there,” he instructed. The boys filed down the docks and found the boat the older man had pointed out. Sitting aboard was the same young girl from the train.

“Oh, you two again, come to join me?” she asked

“Might as well, Hagrid said there were two spots here. My name’s Ron, and this is Harry.”

“Hermione Granger, a pleasure,” she said and turned back to the open water.

“What are you l-looking for?” Harry thought to ask as he sat down.

“According to ‘Hogwart’s: A History’ there’s a giant squid living in the lake, which shouldn’t be possible, but I’m hoping to catch a glimpse.”

Harry tilted his head. He hadn’t had a chance to read that one, since his reading level wasn’t quite up to it just yet. His mind raced at the possibilities and he nearly had a panic attack when he realized that a giant squid could easily reach up, crush the boat, and devour the three of them whole. It didn’t help that as he thought that, the boat lurched into motion, moving up to follow Hagrid across the lake.

A few deep breaths, and then they were taken away as Hogwart’s came into view. The old castle was magnificent to him. He could tell it held the knowledge and secrets of ages long past. Lights flickered in some windows and tall towers cut silhouettes in the moon. He hadn’t realized how late it was.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Hermione asked, snapping him out of his reverie. All Harry could do was nod, not trusting his tongue.

Once the small boats were safely docked and the first years herded up the stairs, Professor McGonagall made her appearance.

“Welcome to Hogwart’s,” she began, “In a few moments you will enter the Great Hall where you will be sorted into your houses. While you are here, your house is your home. Your housemates your family. If you do something good, your house will gain points. If you do something bad, your house will lose points. Those houses are Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw,” she paused while some students giggled, “You may laugh now, but you will be part of one of those houses soon enough. Now, wait here until I call for you.”

With that, she disappeared through the giant doors of the Great Hall. The students started a low murmur of conversation that gradually grew to a dull roar and Harry found himself again out of sorts among the press of bodies. It was a blessing when the professor appeared again, “Line up and file in down the center aisle.”

The students did so, in a typical rowdy, eleven-year-old fashion. Much of them went quiet when they entered the hall, due to the sheer number of other students, all staring at the newcomers, some wondering who would be joining them at their tables, others looking for new targets for bullying.

Some of the ones near the front were staring ahead at a stool, upon which sat an old, beaten hat. Professor McGonagall stood next to this and cleared her throat, “When I call your name, come up and sit on the stool. The sorting hat will be placed on your head and it will sort you into your houses.”

“A h-hat is going to sort us?” Harry asked, bewildered.

“It’s probably enchanted,” Ron replied, “I already know what house I’m going to end up in: Gryffindor, just like all my brothers,” he said with a bit of a proud grin.

“Just like a Weasley,” came a voice behind them, “Hand-me-down robes, red hair, Gryffindor. All the best go in Slytherin, you know,”

The pair looked back and saw a very pale boy with nearly white blond hair, slicked back, smirking cockily. They shrugged and Ron said, “Not a witch or wizard who went bad wasn’t in Slytherin. Even You-Know-Who was a Snake.”

The other boy squinted, his features hardening, “Don’t speak about things you know nothing about,” he said locking eyes with Harry, “My name is Draco Malfoy, you’d be better off making friends with me. You’ll find some families are just better than others.”

This had all been going on while McGonagall called names in a seemingly random order. Harry debated introducing himself as Ron was called up, the hat barely touching the boys head before shouting “Gryffindor!” to the hall. His brothers, if Harry had to guess by the gaggle of red-haired boys slapping him on the back, cheering the loudest.

Next came Draco, leaving Harry blessedly alone in the line for the moment until other students crowded in behind him. The sorting hat didn’t even touch the boy’s greased-back hair before shouting “Slytherin!” with thinly veiled disgust. How a hat could feel emotion, Harry had no idea.

McGonagall looked at her list, then down at the boy in the line with the bright green eyes, “Harry Potter!” she called, gesturing to the stool.

Once his name was said all sound in the Great Hall seemed to stop. All Harry could hear was his own heartbeat as he nervously approached the stool. Some students began whispering, especially at the Slytherin table. He tried to remain calm, but he was sure everyone could see him shaking like a leaf as he sat down. He could already see his vision tunneling and graying out, a panic attack imminent. He nearly made to bolt when McGonagall set the hat on his head.

“Oh, my dear boy, what has been done to you?” the hat spoke in his mind, the boy’s vision clearing and heart rate calming almost immediately, “Such a rough past, but that can form a strong future… Now where to put you. Slytherin would teach you the cunning you need to survive… but may not be the best… No, not Slytherin…

“Hufflepuff would coddle you, help you come out of your shell, and you’d find fast friends among them but perhaps not the best fit thinking about it. Definitely not Ravenclaw… Now, Gryffindor, they would help you the most, I think. It took a lot of bravery to survive what you did… Yes, it has to be.”

The voice stopped being in his head and sounded out to the hall, “Gryffindor!”

Harry started and then stood and walked to the table to the resounding cheers and shouts of, “We got Potter!” He still didn’t quite understand why he was famous for surviving but he was sure someone would explain it eventually. He collapsed on the bench next to Ron and blanked out while everyone celebrated, and the students continued to be sorted. He could hear everything going on around him, but it was muted and distant. He flinched whenever someone touched him and was eventually left alone.

Eventually something clear and bright chimed out, and he snapped back into the world, confused. He looked around and then up to an ornate owl-themed podium, behind which stood a man with a gray beard nearly as long as he was tall and wearing ornate robes with precious gems studded at seemingly random.

“Welcome, welcome to Hogwart’s,” the old man began, his voice raspy but strong, “Another year begins. Before we become addled by the wondrous feast that’s been prepared for us, I have a few announcements to make. To all new students, the Forbidden Forest is just that: forbidden. Students are advised to avoid the third-floor hallway on the eastern side unless they wish to die a most horrible death. I’d also like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor: Quirrell,” he said, gesturing to a man wearing a turban who was trying to look as small as possible. The man waved slightly and gave what Harry thought was meant to be a smile, “Hm, with that, I believe it is time for the feast to begin!”

As soon as he finished, food, drink, and all manner of plate-ware and cutlery appeared on the long tables. Harry had never seen such a feast and was at a loss on where to start. He looked around for some kind of cue about what to take first, or if it was okay, only to see everyone already stuffing their faces. Shrugging, he took a small bit of a few different things to try them and sipped at the mysterious juice in his glass. He’d heard of pumpkin juice and couldn’t quite decide if he liked it or not. He was used to drinking water.

A few hours later, he was laid in bed, listening to Ron snoring away near him. It had been a whirlwind of activity upon entering the Gryffindor common room for the first time. Bed assignments, class schedules, rules and regulations. All of it swirled in his mind and kept him from sleeping until late into the night. Tomorrow would be interesting, to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, if you enjoyed this, you can buy me a ko-fi (or comment and tell me to make a patreon) https://ko-fi.com/terashell


	6. Wheeeeee

The chime that woke Harry in the morning came far too soon. He sat up and blinked owlishly before pawing for his glasses on the bed-side stand. Ron was still asleep, but Dean and Seamus were up and about already. He pulled on his freshly cleaned robes, sure that he had left them in a ball on the floor next to his bad, having not figured out how laundry was to do be done, and descended into the common room. The room was filled with grumbles and mutters as students filed out for breakfast. One person stood out as the oddity, already bright and cheery.

“Harry!” Hermione said, “Come on, we’ve got to get to breakfast so we can get to our first class… Where’s Ron?”

Harry shrugged, “Still asleep… and classes don’t start for another two hours…”

“Yes, but if we don’t get there early, we won’t get good seats. Besides, this castle is a maze, so we’ll need the extra time to find the room.”

Harry just continued to blink, had he been asleep at a normal time last night, he may have been more available for conversation. Hermione just huffed and stomped over to shout up the boy’s stairs at Ron. Seizing the moment, the boy joined the line of students filing out of the portal and headed for breakfast.

Again, everyone seemed to dig in immediately, so Harry joined them, but ate with restraint. He was still undersized from his time with the Dursleys and so couldn’t fit the massive piles of food everyone else seemed to be able to put away every meal. He was finished by the time Hermione dragged a yawning Ron into the main hall and the two sat down next to Harry. They conversed about their schedules, the three having the same classes at the same time, like the rest of the first year Gryffindors.

Eventually, Hermione dragged them out of the hall and through the castle to their first class. Hermione sat down right in front and demanded that Ron and Harry sit next to them. Still unused to thinking for himself, Harry did so, pulling out his textbooks for the class. He flipped it open to the first page and started reading the forward, which told him less than nothing about the actual contents of the book. He sighed and looked up to see a gray cat sitting on the teacher’s desk.

“So, what’s t-transfiguration?” he asked Hermione.

“The act of turning one thing into another,” she said matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious question in the universe.

“But… how?” he asked, blankly.

When he had finished, the cat leapt off the table, transforming in stride to Professor McGonagall, “Magic, Mr. Potter. Something I hope you’ll learn in this class. What I just did is one of the highest levels of transfiguration magic, and a very rare ability besides. The ability to turn into an animal as easily as if you were breathing. Does anyone know what such a witch is called?”

“An animagus!” Harry and Hermione both said at the same time. Hermione and the professor both looked at Harry and he shrank into his seat.

“Ten points to Gryffindor. I’m very impressed you knew that, Harry. Now…” the professor trailed off and then launched into her usual first year first day lesson. When the class was finished, Harry had more questions than answers, but definitely knew that Transfiguration class would be interesting.

Several hours later, he was convinced that for as interesting as Transfiguration would be, History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts would be the opposite. Between Professor Binns monotone recitation of lessons on the Goblin Wars that were surely the same as when he had been alive and Professor Quirrell’s stutter that was even worse than Harry’s, it was difficult to get anything out of them.

Harry was a bit put out by this as he journeyed down the stairs with Hermione and Ron towards the dungeons and potions class.

“I’ve heard things about Snape from my brothers…”

“ _Professor_ Snape,” Hermione corrected.

Ron ignored her and continued, “They said he’s a nightmare. Always treating Slytherins like kings and taking points away from other houses for no reason.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “I’m sure they’re exaggerating. No professor could get away with that kind of favoritism!”

Harry just shrugged and they entered the classroom. The professor in question was nowhere to be seen as the Slytherins, including one Draco Malfoy, filed in fashionably late. Harry spent his time looking around the room, eyeing the various bits and pieces floating in jars, bottles of liquids, and bubbling cauldrons in the back.

Professor Snape swayed into the room and up into the front of the class with little ceremony, “There will be no silly wand-waving or magic words in this class. In here you will learn how to brew fame, bottle fortune, and even put a stopper in…” he paused as his eyes passed over Harry, “death… Harry Potter, our new celebrity. Tell me, Potter, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

“I-I don’t know, sir,” Harry replied, shrinking a little as everyone looked at him.

“Oh? Clearly fame isn’t everything. Where would you look, Mr. Potter, if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”

“W-what’s a b-bezoar? I-I don’t know, s-s-sir,” Harry swallowed, suddenly desperate for air under the piercing stare of his teacher and the mocking smirks of the Slytherins.

Something in the professor’s demeanor changed slightly as he noticed Harry falling into a panic state. Turning his attention to the rest of the class, he picked out the waving hand of one Hermione Granger, “Since our celebrity seems incapable of answering simple questions, Miss Granger, maybe you can save your house from embarrassment.”

“Sir, a bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat, and asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death.”

“Hmph, not a total embarrassment at least,” Snape said and snapped his attention to the chalkboard before launching into the first lesson, one designed to make or break students. He ignored Harry for the rest of the class.

As it came to an end and the students began to shuffle out, some looking intrigued but most looking harried, he stopped the Gryffindors, “Mr. Potter, a moment if you would. You two can go along to whatever it is you students do these days,” he said, waving off Ron and Hermione.

Harry took a deep breath and nodded as his… friends? Could he use that word yet? Departed the room. When they were gone, Professor Snape directed him to a chair and offered him a potion, “Calming draught, we need to talk, and I would not have you passing out from a panic attack while doing so.”

The student nodded, already feeling the onset of the mentioned attack, and drank the potion hoping that a professor wouldn’t poison a student. Instantly he felt calmer and clearer of mind, “Th-thank you, sir.”

Snape nodded, “When you entered my class, I expected the fiery personality of your father when I saw your face. You have your mother’s eyes though… I did not expect you to shrink away at a few simple questions. You do not have to tell me what has happened to you. I would not be a good ear.

I do expect you to pay attention in class and learn what I am trying to teach you. Your mother was very skilled with potions so I can only hope a modicum of that talent was passed to you. I will do my best not to bully you, but I expect my students to perform at their best. I would provide you with a regular dose of a calming draught but they can be addictive and I believe you would be better served by learning how to handle things on your own.”

“Yes, sir. I’m already l-learning skills…”

“Good, now go, don’t be late for your next class,” Snape said, dismissing him.

Harry left, confused, but calmer than he had been since reaching school. He could see how that particular potion could be addicting to someone like him. Snape didn’t seem so bad now. As soon as he rounded the corner, he was pounced by Ron and Hermione who badgered him with questions.

Harry placated them while remaining vague about the exact contents of the conversation. The rest of the week went much the same. Charms proved as interesting as transfiguration, and now that he was able to concentrate, Harry found that he was an able hand at potions but not amazing. Ron was completely useless, and Hermione often overthought her potions, much like everything else the girl did.

As the weekend loomed, Harry had to admit he was beginning to enjoy school and had found easy friends with Ron and Hermione. He had even approached another boy named Neville who experienced much the same issues as he did, after a disastrous accident during their first flight training.

He thought back to that moment, when he had mounted the broom and swooped after Draco who had stolen Neville’s Remembrall. The blond snake had hurled it toward the castle intent on its destruction and Harry had chased it through the sky and barely managed to catch it outside what turned out to be Professor McGonagall’s office window.

His panic had nearly resulted in him passing out when she pulled him away from class moments later, but it turned out that she only wanted to discuss the possibility of him joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team the next year if he felt his anxiety could handle it. The team needed a seeker badly and none of the people who had tried out this year would cut it for long. He had agreed to think about it and attend some games to see how it was played. He had heard of the game from his godfather and how his own father had been the best seeker Gryffindor had ever seen.

Harry was wandering the halls, exploring the castle on his own when he heard a commotion ahead. Pinning himself against a wall, he could hear some voices.

“What he was thinking… beast in the school… the stone…” he could only make out a few words before the conversation stopped and footsteps retreated.

Confused, Harry shrugged and turned around to head back to the common.

September passed in much the same way and October rolled around and brought crisper weather and short days. Everyone seemed to be looking forward to the Halloween feast except him. He had never thought Halloween a great holiday back in the muggle world and finding out that his parents had died on that day did nothing to enhance its image in the wizarding world. He tried to sit through the feast, but much of it was overly sweet to him and he eventually excused himself to wander the school.

He was gone by the time Professor Quirrell ran into the hall in a panic, shouting about trolls in the dungeons. He missed the panic and the quick reaction of Dumbledore to regain control of the students. What he did not miss, was a very large, very angry troll absolutely destroying a bathroom being taunted by a ghost.

The troll turned to him and the boy froze in fear, unable to move, or even reach for his wand. Not that any of the spells he knew would help him much in this situation. Instead he did the only thing he could think of, scream and run.

Blinded by fear he was soon totally lost, only running into Ron and Hermione who had snuck off to search for him by pure dumb luck. The three managed to dodge the troll and make it back to the Gryffindor common room with more luck.

“Th-this is w-why I h-hate H-H-h-…” Harry paused and took a breath, “Halloween,” he said when they had collapsed on the couch and caught their breath while being berated by Percy Weasley for not staying with the group, “Are Halloween’s always this m-mental?”

“No, this was unique. Someone had to have let those trolls in. They couldn’t have wandered in on their own,” Hermione said, looking thoughtful.

“Barmy prank gone wrong,” Ron said with a shrug.

“If that was a p-prank I’ll eat m-my shoe,” Harry retaliated before turning inward to think about what he had gotten himself into by coming to Hogwart's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MEH! MEH I SAY!
> 
> buy me a ko-fi so I can stay awake:   
> ko-fi.com/terashell


End file.
